Walking the West Highland Way, Part Three - Inveroran to Fort William

 A new day dawned, and after a beautiful, delicious breakfast, we were ready to leave Inveroran and head across Rannoch Moor, one of Europe’s largest remaining wildernesses. From descriptions I’d read and anecdotes I'd heard, it sounded like a bleak place where you could easily end up wading through bog. I didn’t find it desolate, and with a clearly defined path and dry weather didn’t stumble into any bogs by accident. There were even hillocks on which to stop for a snack. We were traversing it in relatively fine weather, I imagine it would be a different experience in the pelting rain. As with many sections of the Way there wasn’t much in the way of shelter. 

Leaving Rannoch Moor behind

On a clear day you can see quite some distance with mountains receding from view behind you, and new panoramas appearing ahead. The day starts with a steady incline before flattening out and gently descending before a further climb which gives your first views of Glen Coe and the iconic Buachaille Etive Mòr, menacingly standing guard. From above you can see the road that runs through the valley, and it was here that I realised how noisy motorbikes are, their roars reaching us from quite a distance across which sounds from the rest of the traffic did not pass.

Buachaille Etive Mòr and some of the local wildlife

It was our shortest day on the Way, arriving in time to lunch at the on-site pub at Kingshouse while we waited for our beds in the bunkhouse to be ready. The location of the hotel is undoubtedly stunning and you’re likely to encounter deer in the immediate surrounds. We were also treated to a colourful sunset which made Buachaille Etive Mòr appear as an erupting volcano.

Glorious sunshine to bid farewell to Glen Coe

The next day began with a disappointing breakfast but improved exponentially as the walk continued with some of the best panoramas of the trip. We were fortunate to have beautiful sunshine for this leg, one of my favourites. Leaving Kingshouse behind, you follow the valley floor to begin with. The road is visible (and audible at times) but I didn’t find it as oppressive as some guidebooks suggest. Regardless, the incredible views more than make up for having to share them with vehicles. You get a real sense of the scale of the mountains as you walk toward the base of the Devil’s Staircase, a busier section of the Way due to its popularity as a stand-alone walk.

On our way up the Devil's Staircase

There seems to be some disagreement of exactly when the name dates from but it seems to derive either from the numbers who lost their lives climbing it in inclement weather before the construction of the modern road, or in the dislike felt by many who had to carry building equipment up and down. Either way, it’s not as bad climbing it today, at least not in good weather during daylight hours. It is steep and you’ll likely need to stop to catch your breath, but the main difficulty was in the loose rocks slipping underfoot. Walking poles were helpful once again in staying upright. I’m not sure I’d fancy doing the route in reverse here.

Mountains as far as the eye can see

Reaching the summit you are rewarded with breathtaking views on all sides, and your first glimpse of Ben Nevis, reminding you how far you still have to go. Much of the remainder of the day’s walk stays at height, and seemed very popular with mountain bikers. I think we had one of the best lunch break spots this day, sitting on the side of the mountain, enjoying the views across the valley.

The descent in to Kinlochleven

The descent into Kinlochleven felt long and can be a bit hard on the knees, especially if they’re already feeling the strain, but it is a pleasant walk surrounded by trees. The village itself is very pretty with River Leven running through it.  We were lucky to be staying right next to the river with views of the mountains rising up behind it.

The view from the day's first ascent

The final day on the trail was a long one and we set off early, with slightly heavy hearts knowing it was almost over. After a short walk along the road you turn into a wooded area and follow a rocky path upward. Passing small waterfalls and streams, it’s a beautiful but brutal start to the day as you climb steeply out of the valley. There are glimpses of the view as you go but it is when you reach the top that it really opens up, and quite a view it is whether looking back over Kinlochleven or ahead along the length of the loch.

Miles of path ahead

Mercifully there’s no more intense ascents for a while and you enjoy an undulating route through the hills. It’s quite an open sections with streams frequently crossing the path. Sheep and ruined, abandoned farmhouses dot the route, giving a sense of the history of the place. The openness of the landscape means you can see the path snaking off into the distance more than most other sections of the Way.

The re-appearance of trees

After a couple of hours you reach a shift in the landscape, clumps of trees around but not crowding the view. Some splashes of colour appear in the form of purple and yellow flowers, and small bodies of water can be seen in the distance. It’s a very pleasant landscape to be walking through. At one point there is the option to leave the Way and take a shorter route along the road to Fort William. You would miss out on some stunning views by taking it.

The path continues with quite a few more inclines between you and the finish line. It was a sunny, relatively hot day when we did it and there had been very little shade to speak of. The trees offer occasional shelter but for the most part it’s quite an exposed section.

Approaching Ben Nevis from the south

Views of Ben Nevis and neighbouring mountains appear from the flower-lined path making for a pleasant backdrop, albeit one that makes you realise you’ve still got several hours of walking ahead of you. One final push uphill and you can see the town of Fort William in the distance. A wide gravel road takes you on a winding route down to the valley floor. 

Views toward the finish line

It having been a hot day, and one with no facilities en route, we’d been looking forward to reaching the Glen Nevis visitor centre in the hopes of finding a cold drink. Alas, thanks to a break by a stream on the descent we arrived shortly after 4pm and found it closed, the external toilet block locked. 

The remainder of the route follows the road into the town, and although we took detours to stay in the trees as much as possible there’s no denying it’s an anti-climactic end to an absolutely stunning walk. Arriving at the finish line having walked the length of the high street feels strange, surrounded by shoppers going about their day.

Final waymarkers

Despite the underwhelming final miles, the preceding 94 more than made up for it. It was an incredibly special experience spending my days walking side by side with my husband, sharing spectacular, ever-changing views. There were a few fellow walkers we’d seen regularly throughout who we were sad not to bump into on the final day, but hope they made it to the finish line. Before heading back to the daily grind we spent some time exploring Scotland’s cities, an adjustment to being surrounded by people and buildings once more. It felt strange no longer measuring our days in hours of walking, and worse still, when back at work, spending our days staring at screens away from each other. Talking to locals made it clear that life in the highlands is not easy, but the experience certainly opened our eyes to different ways of life, and showed us the benefits of living a slower life, more connected to nature. Now just to work out how to incorporate those lessons into daily life.

West Highland Way complete

Walking the West Highland Way, Part Two - Rowardennan to Inveroran

Having stayed two nights in Rowardennan for the pleasure of climbing Ben Lomond, walkers that had started on the same day as us had raced ahead and we wouldn’t see them again. On day three we were to meet those we’d encounter most days until we reached Fort William. The trail seemed busier than the first two days, suggesting that most start their walk on a Monday. I say it was busier, but we still felt we were on our own for the majority of the journey.

Day three, Rowardennan to Inverarnan, is widely considered to be the toughest day. I’d done as much research as I could to understand what challenges lay ahead. The main message was that there would be a lot of rocks to clamber over and tree roots to navigate. I had been concerned that all fourteen miles would be a slog but some last minute intel suggested the worst of it covered only about three miles, which gave me some hope.

An honesty box heading out of Rowardennan

The start of the day was fairly gentle. An honesty box not far out of Rowardennan offered the chance to stock up on snacks and blister plasters. The path was fairly wide and flat, the loch on one side, intermittent gentle waterfalls on the other. Knowing that the afternoon was set to be a challenge we opted for the high route, hoping to make the journey to Inversnaid as painless as possible. We didn’t regret it. Rather than descend to a narrow, rocky path, we were treated to a continuation of the wide smooth path we’d been enjoying for most of the morning. We were surrounded by pine trees and moss covered undergrowth, the occasional view across the loch visible. 

Views on the high route

When the two routes converged the path began to get narrower, an abundance of ferns lining the route. We dropped down to the level of the water with some small beaches to enjoy the full view across the loch. As we approached Inversnaid the path became rockier and there was one final steep ascent to take us to the bridge to cross the waterfall and down to Inversnaid Hotel, the only place on the route to buy food until Inverarnan. Walkers happy to add a bit more incline can go in search of the bunkhouse which I believe also serves food.

Reviews of the hotel did not always sing the praises of how welcome walkers are, but we found our reception perfectly friendly. They have a dedicated room to leave your rucksack and boots, and a room where you’re welcome to eat a packed lunch if you have one. The bar itself only serves food until one o’clock so it’s worth ensuring you arrive in good time. I would highly recommend the scones.

A rocky section of the walk

After a pleasant lunch overlooking the loch we set off to see what this infamous section of the Way had to offer. There’s no denying it is slow going, and I was grateful to have a walking partner to pull me up some of the trickier sections, but overall it wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. There are sections of relatively smooth path between the rockier sections but there is a lot of up and down and you have to watch where you’re putting your feet so much that there’s not much opportunity to look up and appreciate where you are. 

An overgrown section of the path

After a few hours we emerged from the trees on to a beach which felt like the end of the loch (it was not). It was a nice spot to sit and enjoy the views. The path from there is more open for a while, although overgrown in places. You’ll still experience more rocks on the journey but the worst is now behind you.

Final views of Loch Lomond

You bid farewell to the loch from an elevated position, offering a sense of space and distance. A small plane swept through as we were enjoying the view. Looking ahead you can see rolling mountains, giving a taste of what your next few days will involve. I was a little sad to leave the loch behind, it had provided a beautiful backdrop to the walk so far, but the scenery for the rest of the route soon cured me of this.

Into the mountains

The descent into Inverarnan felt like a bit of a slog after a long day of walking. It’s not the most scenic part of the route as your view is blocked by trees, and although you catch glimpses of where you’re going it’s a long time before you arrive.

Our home for the night was the Drovers’ Inn. Built in 1705, this inn is said to be haunted. We didn’t see any ghosts but you can’t help but see a lot of taxidermy. The reception area includes a stuffed Canadian bear (in a kilt, of course) and the collection spreads throughout the bar. The staff were all friendly and they really went above and beyond.

The following day would see us walk to Tyndrum on what would prove to be a beautiful, varied route. The day started with a series of waterfalls as you follow the River Falloch. Before long you are climbing to some stunning panoramic views of the mountains, a road just about visible but far enough away not to disturb the peace of the walk.

Waterfalls on day four

The path splits with an option to stop off in Crianlarich, which we didn’t take as we were well stocked up on supplies, but regretted not being able to get the stamp for our West Highland Way passport. There is an information board and bench at the fork which make for a convenient place for a lunch break, but if you can withhold the hunger for a little longer, at the top of the next hill there are picnic benches with arguably even more beautiful views.

Some very official looking way-marking

The path then winds its way through forestry track, with some sad views over expanses of land where the trees have all been chopped down. Descending to the valley floor you cross a river and pass through farmland. It was here we saw our only highland cow of the walk.

Farmland might not sound the most thrilling of landscapes but it felt idyllic as the clouds cleared and the sun shone brightly on fields ringed by mountains. Again, there were information boards telling you which mountains you could see as well as some information about the land and its uses. You’ll also see the remains of the fourteenth century St. Fillan’s Priory with connections to Robert the Bruce and an historic graveyard.

Idyllic views across the farmland

The path then takes what feels like a circuitous route up and through a heather-lined path before descending once more into the small village of Tyndrum. Home to the famous Green Welly Stop, it’s a good place to stock up as there’s minimal opportunities on the rest of the route.

The next day’s walk to Inveroran goes through open landscapes with views for miles. The path is wide enough to walk two abreast and is not too tough on the feet. You have clear views of Beinn Odhar, standing slightly apart from the other peaks, it appears as a cone. Once you’ve circled it the path remains open and you see glimpses of the railway line which would offer stunning views without the effort of the hike. Eventually you descend to the Bridge of Orchy, a small picturesque village where refreshments can be procured and facilities used at the Bridge of Orchy Hotel where sandwiches come super-sized as standard.

Beinn Odhar

Crossing the River Orchy you have the chance to look back and admire the stone bridge, mountains rising above the sprinkling of white houses. A forestry path ascends with beautiful views over the mountains and your first glimpses of Loch Tulla. Reaching the peak provided one of my favourite views of the walk as a stunning panorama of mountains opened up, the loch stretching into the distance, with what looks like a gingerbread house perched on its edge.

The Bridge of Orchy

It was a peaceful place, one pair of walkers visible on their descent but otherwise nobody in sight for as far as they eye could see. Having made good time there was no pressure to rush ahead and so we were able to sit awhile and enjoy the view, appreciating the joy that comes with spending every day in gorgeous landscapes under mercifully clear skies. A deep contentment settles and a desire for life to be made up of more moments like this.

Stunning views before the final descent of the day

As was so often the case you could see the end point some time before arriving. It was a relatively steep descent, again with loose gravel and larger rocks protruding. I was grateful for my walking poles which stopped me falling over more than once.

Inveroran Hotel itself was a lovely place to stay, the owners have obviously put a lot of thought into making it a pleasant rest stop, and the dinner was the best I had on the trail.

Walking the West Highland Way, Part One - Milngavie to Rowardennan

The start of the West Highland Way, Milngavie

Sometime in the summer of 2023 my husband suggested that we walk the West Highland Way, Scotland’s first long distance trail, and one known for the variety of its stunning scenery. I eagerly agreed, not really considering how much it would take over our lives. We were not beginning from a point of peak physical fitness and so training was to be an important part of our preparations. Weekends were consumed with long walks, leaving us feeling that we were losing our one day of rest a week. I’d be lying if I said we always set off enthusiastically but I was (almost) always glad to have been. As the seasons changed and the levels of mud slowly decreased it was cheering to see the scenery change and the landscape gradually come alive once more. Various patches of ill health and injury meant we set off for Scotland feeling less well prepared to undertake a 96 mile walk than I would have hoped. We’d done as much as we could and would just have to hope it would be enough.

Day one views

After a difficult journey to the starting line with a cancelled train and no available seats for several hours we set out on a semi-sunny Sunday morning from Milngavie. I admit that I had expected the scenery on the first day to be fairly underwhelming but was pleasantly surprised. We may have been starting the day in a small town but we were soon among the trees and it wasn’t long before we were walking through vast landscapes with panoramic views. I was also struck by the sheer volume of wildflowers lining the route, adding colour and attracting a variety of insects.

Wildflowers on day one

The Beech Tree was a welcome stop for lunch, many other walkers gratefully taking off their packs and resting their sore feet. Not only were we able to get a hearty meal, we were greeted by Shetland ponies, fluffy quails were roaming the garden, and there was a play area for children. After a short rest and a little bit of rain we were on our way again to the first overnight stop, Drymen. We arrived in time to stretch and shower before dinner at Scotland’s oldest licensed pub, the first stop of many along the route which boast an impressive history.

Conic Hill and Loch Lomond

We awoke the next day achey but excited to see what day two had in store for us, little expecting quite how many inclines lay between us and our beds in Rowardennan. After some narrow, overgrown paths we were soon on wider woodland track with our first glimpses of Loch Lomond through the trees. Conic Hill, our first major incline, was visible in the distance long before we started the ascent. Walking ever closer you get excellent views of the loch in the distance and the distinctive shape which gives the hill its ‘dragon’s back’ nickname.

A tiring climb rewards you with gorgeous views across the loch and its islands. The descent was a long series of stone steps, recently repaired. Ascending via these from Balmaha would be fairly relentless but made an easier descent than the loose gravel and rocks would have done.

Balmaha

Balmaha is small but picturesque, nestled on the shore with a visitor centre, pub, and shop. The remainder of the day’s walk followed the edge of the loch, which you’d be forgiven for thinking would be fairly flat. Far from it, you do nonetheless have some time walking alongside a series of small, secluded beaches. One larger expanse was full of people enjoying the sunshine and paddling in the water. It was incredibly tempting to go in the water, glistening on what was a beautiful summer’s day, but with a long way still to go we kept moving. 

The path along the loch

The surrounds were lush green, the proliferation of ferns giving something of a pre-historic feel. On reaching Sallochy campsite we thought ourselves almost there but we hadn’t reckoned on the final steep climb of the day. We arrived exhausted around ten hours after setting off, just scraping in in time for dinner in a beer garden with glorious views on the loch and Ben Lomond. Despite being a tiring day I realised that all the quips about this not being a relaxing holiday, or indeed really a break at all were wrong. Yes, it was physically challenging but it was rejuvenating in a way that a city break wouldn’t be. Time in nature is so incredibly precious.

Beer garden views at The Clansman Bar, Rowardennan

We stayed two nights in Rowardennan to allow ourselves time to climb Ben Lomond. The forecast on the night we arrived didn’t look promising and so we were beginning to prepare ourselves for a day of rest. However, the next day dawned beautifully clear and the forecast had shifted the start of the rain until late afternoon so we risked it, thinking that we’d likely be most of the way down by the time the rain kicked in.

Our legs protested at the slightest incline but we persevered, one step at a time. About two thirds of the way up I became concerned by the strength of the wind, the gusts challenging my stability. With encouragement, we kept going, the wind barely letting up. As we approached the final scramble via a narrow path next to a steep drop, edging our way along, the wind buffeting against us, I felt incredibly unsafe and that we’d been foolish to not have turned back. The views across Loch Lomond are undeniably beautiful, but there was no time to enjoy the fruits of our efforts as the first drops of rain fell. 

Views across the loch from Ben Lomond

What followed was a difficult descent, the wind whipping around us and screeching in our ears was more unbearable for its persistence than the rain that was being directed at us, colliding with our skin like cold needle pricks. On our way up we’d passed people working on improving the path and I was surprised to discover they were continuing on. 

It was a slow descent, the wind trying to sweep my feet out from under me on each steep step down, and making me stumble even on the smoother sections. It felt interminable and I say with all sincerity that I thought we might die on that mountain, and that it would be our own fault for racing the weather and continuing on when it began to feel unsafe. The existence of this post signals the fact we made it down, mercifully unharmed, but I write this as a warning - please don’t underestimate even relatively short mountains, and listen to your instincts, if you feel unsafe, turn back. Our experience may have been less than ideal but in better weather I think it would have been a pleasant climb. The path is well maintained, fairly solid and stable, and varied enough that if you’re not too keen on one type of terrain you won’t have to put up with it for long. As you ascend more and more of the loch reveals itself, and the peak allows views of a sea of mountains. On a good day, it’s a walk I’d recommend.

Views from Ben Lomond